


hidden in plain sight

by valiidpunkman



Category: Stranger Things - Fandom
Genre: 90s era, Alternate Universe - College/University, Band Name Dropping, Billy Masturbates to Stuff Sometimes, F/M, Love Letters, Lovesick Billy, Nosey Max, Pump Up the Volume, Rules of attraction, Secret Admirer, Smashing Pumpkins - Freeform, Soft Billy Hargrove, stone temple pilots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:13:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21614380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valiidpunkman/pseuds/valiidpunkman
Summary: Billy receives anonymous letters in his mailbox every Friday.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Reader, Billy Hargrove/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 83





	hidden in plain sight

Everything was boring in the world of the freshly graduated, young adult. Billy lacked virtually any excitement in life, also lacking any drive to pursue it. Until something, someone, exciting came to him first for a change.

It started out with a letter in his mailbox. He’d wondered if distant family members were wishing him an extremely late happy birthday, making him less than eager to get around opening it. Later that night, after cooking himself some Top Ramen, flicking through the endless channels on television, he got curious. The mail sat on his kitchen counter, waiting to be ripped open and read. To get his mind at peace, he snatched it off the counter, dragging his nail down the envelope before taking out what was inside and tossed the envelope aside. Upon opening it, he scans the letter and finds no name (besides his own) and a paragraph of black writing. With a teetering feeling in his gut, he reads thoroughly to himself.

_Hey._

_I think I know what’s going through your mind right about now. What is this for, is this some joke one of the boys are playing… Let me just clear that nonsense right off the bat: it’s not. I’m writing to you because like all the other girls that eye you up at a bar or a club or maybe even a local store, I’m terrified of what you think of me. You’re so intimidating, Billy, and it doesn’t really make my job any easier here. You’ve got this… this way about you, I don’t know how I could ever begin to describe something so uniquely and ingeniously Billy… but I could try again in another letter if you’d like. Or I could just fuck off and you could crumble this up before throwing it away and move on to whomever else suits your druthers. Maybe go to a girl that can talk to you up front instead of communicating through a cheesy desperate letter in your mailbox. But it was important to me that you know that I care about you. And I’ll be damned if I let you go another day thinking nobody does._

By the time Billy finished reading, his cheeks hurt from smiling and his heart wouldn’t quit in his chest. Even his hands shook as they held the paper. Needless to say the letters didn’t stop, not that he wanted them to. Billy didn’t dare crumbling it up and throwing it away either like she suggested if he felt uncomfortable. Instead, he handled the note with care and pinned it to the wall in his room. The boy read it twelve more times before dreaming of what Mystery Girl has in store for him next.

It didn’t worry him too much about who it was hiding behind the curtain yet. The blushing, lovestruck boy had taken to simply basking in the thrill of living in a reality where some beautiful girl had taken time out of her day to write him a thoughtful message.

—

The letters became a crucial part to the boy’s routine and overall happiness. If he could make it to Friday after a hard week full of work, he would be rewarded by these special messages.  
Mystery Girl never disappointed him, always the same red paper, same beautiful black writing and a kiss just for his lips at the bottom. Every week it had similarly themed scents, his favorite being when it was lathered in vanilla. Some messages made his cheeks burn and tears fall, whereas others made him claw at his jeans, desperate to drag them down his hips before rigorously fisting himself. The letter would be smothered on top of his face as he got to satisfying his aching needs, consuming him whole. He’d inhale her fresh vanilla perfume as his eyes practically rolled to the back of his head at her beautifully gifted, dirty minded secrets whispered to him through the ink on paper. Playboy mags will never have this much of a hypnotic affect on him, not by a long shot. These messages were _personal._

He was starting to wish she’d cut the anonymity out already. The boy knew in the back of his brain this could lead to trouble or heartbreak. But he ignored all of that and sat back to fucking enjoy it.

It was month three receiving messages and as always had a pep in his step, even whistled with glee as he drove over the post office. He jingles the mail key between his finger and hums a happy tune, even holding the door open for an elderly woman behind him. Nothing tops the anticipation of turning the key to the lock and seeing the angelic envelope awaiting for his eyes to read and his hands to hold. Ten cups of coffee don’t even give him this feeling. No one has ever made him feel so special, so seen.

As he rips open the little silver door to his mailbox with expectancy, his mood drops in a split second from a high ten to a flat zero.  
All that sat in his in his mailbox were bills and spam. Billy searches the compartment thoroughly, thinking there may have been a mix up or it could have fallen out. She couldn’t leave him high and dry like this.

On the brink of a meltdown because this wasn’t how his evening was supposed to go, he takes a deep breath to bury his insecurities. Maybe Mystery Girl was late. The disappointed blonde snatched the useless bills and the meaningless spam and slammed his box closed. He must be certain that this is all he’s got, that her precious letter didn’t get dropped in a sewer or left behind. He rues the day he ever lets that happen.  
Approaching the woman behind the desk that types at her computer, Billy impatiently rings the atrocious bell to grab her attention.

“Yes, sir? How may I help you?”

Billy knocks his knuckles on the table anxiously before answering with his infamous charm.

“Hey, Miss—“

“Sue,” the woman nods to her nametag. Billy fakes a smile before going on.

“Sue, lovely name, ah… I’m supposed to get something that comes here every week and honestly, I’m pretty damn disappointed, ‘cause I didn’t see it in my box. You happen to know if this was the most recent delivery?” he asks, feigning politeness as he folds his hands together, wanting an explanation.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid this is the latest delivery. Looks like whoever sent what you were expecting hasn’t dropped it by,” she replies before resuming whatever business being conducted on her computer. Billy furrows his brows in worry, but nevertheless flashes Sue a tight smile. After he turned around to exit, he stumbles as his chest bumps a woman’s, making him take a step back.

“Shit, sorry,” he breathes, placing his arms on the girl’s shoulders to steady her. She lets out an innocent laugh before catching her breath. She looks to be in the middle of her own tornado of a mishap similar to Billy, stuttering as she recovers from their collision.

“It’s fine really. My fault,” she blames, pointing to herself while mocking her clumsiness before fixing another strand of hair that fell down her eyes. Billy recognizes her from somewhere but it’s not certain where yet.

“Haven’t I seen you somewhere?” he thinks aloud, filter having vanished into thin air wondering what it is that’s so familiar. She licks her red lips and pulls the hem of her sweatshirt down, fidgeting under his stare.

“I work at the record store downtown. Seen lots of faces, but I’m just a regular boring old cashier,” she chuckles. Billy’s eyes cascade down and check her out unconsciously. That would explain her familiar face, knowing he always takes trips to her work buying tapes.

“Shit, I do know you then. Well if it’s any consolation, I’m just a regular boring old customer. You off right now?”

“On lunch break,” she holds up her half eaten peanut butter and jelly in a plastic baggie. “Wasted half of it trying to race here and check my mail but ran late, s’all.”

“Sucks ass when you don’t get to enjoy yourself on break. You’re headin’ back now, then?” Billy asks. Music could get his mind off the absence of Mystery Girl’s letter tonight.

“Yeah um, after I go check my box. Why do you ask?” she wonders, nothing snippy in her tone, just thoughtful.

“I was thinkin’ maybe I could follow you back there, snag a few more records for me and my baby sister,” Billy answers, pointing to his car parked outside. She follows his eyes out then looks back at him, her ears turning a shade of red like her lips before she nods.

“Uh, of course, sounds like a plan. I’ll meet you there, sound cool?”

“Sounds awesome.”

The nameless girl smiles, waiting for the the blonde to disappear into his vehicle before sneaking the envelope into his box with the name Billy Hargrove sprawled on the front.  
Sue from behind the counter pauses the task she’d been vigorously tackling. She looks over at the girl slipping the usual piece of mail into the box that belonged to the boy from earlier.

“He looked upset that you were running late today. Seems to really look forward to what you send every week,” she says. Y/N doesn’t reply, instead giving a thanks to the woman from behind the counter. She hid her crimson smile in her sleeve and shook her head at the ground before leaving the post office with a call of see you next week, Sue over her shoulder.

—

Billy makes it to his destination, seeing the girl from the post office park her yellow Beetle and skips over to greet her with a wave. She weakly fumbles with the cluster of keys on her keychain, scoping for the right one. After finding the desired key, she switches the sign hanging on the door from sorry, we’re closed to come in, we’re open! and takes her jacket off. Billy wanders the store with delight, eyeing the hundreds of artists and posters that litter the place.

“Never caught your name,” he called out, almost forgetting he still called her nameless in his mind.

“Oh yeah, it’s Y/N,” she replies, sauntering over to the boy that busied himself flipping through the endless choices there is in stock.

“Y/N, huh? I like that, suits you. I’m B—“

“Billy, yeah. Kinda knew that already. You’ve been coming here awhile,” she interjected, folding her arms and looking over his shoulder at what he’s interested in. “Stone Temple Pilots, nice taste. Plenty more in the back,” she offers with a shrug. Billy’s eyes light up before asking what other stuff that’s tucked away in the back, then drops his jaw to the floor when he followed her into the small space behind the counter.

“How do you even get shit done working here and not just blast this stuff all day?” he asks, practically eyefucking the Mötley Crüe section. “Jesus Christ.” Y/N giggles at his childlike wonder and stands behind as he surveys each collection, flipping through the albums and even seeing some with signatures from his favorite artists.

“Who says I don’t just blast shit all day and get paid for it?”

The blonde nods with a laugh, pointing to her. “I like your style. Man, I would too. Drove my dad nuts in high school playing these on repeat in my room, but God was it fuckin’ worth it.” He knows with the variety that Max’ll go insane just looking at it too. Dusk is settling in when he checks the time, noticing it had been awhile since he left the post office. He realizes if he leaves now he’ll get to check his mail again just in case, right before picking up his sister in time from practice.  
“I should probably get goin’ soon. Gotta pick my sister up and swing by the post office one more time, but I really dig this. Might just dump the rest of my savings into more from the back,” he chuckles, heading to the register so she could ring up his purchases. Y/N hesitates before speaking up.

“You’re going to the post office for the second time today?” she clarifies.

“Hm? Oh, just usually get somethin’ every Friday didn’t come yet but I’m gonna check again,” he answers vaguely while almost dropping the goodies in his arms while fumbling for his wallet. He slaps a fifty dollar bill on the counter and gives her a smile. “Was nice seeing you again, Y/N.”

“Oh… it was nice seeing you too. Enjoy whatever you get in the mail,” she calls out.

“Yeah, hopefully,” Billy mumbles to himself as the tapes almost take a fall before he quickly swoops it up with the other hand that isn’t busy.

“Need some help?” she covers her laughs under her hand at his clumsiness, watching the boy struggle with his arms full before she takes initiative to go and grab tapes and albums that were surely about to fall. For the split second she was close to him, he smelled the scent of vanilla perfume and wanted to pass out from how that flavor drives him insane since he got a letter sprayed with it.

“Thanks,” the blonde mutters, unlocking the driver’s side before she carefully drops the mountain of shit he bought in the back.

“No problem, Billy.”

With another wave to Y/N through the window, he watches from the wheel as she switched the sign to sorry, we’re closed and close down. Snapping out of the staring contest he had with her backside, Billy heads right back to his mailbox.

—

Racing back just before closing and turning the key to the square silver door, he thanked the heavens that he was gifted again with a surprise waiting for him. A kiss waiting for his lips at the very end, and the same gorgeously scented paper. Billy holds it to his chest like precious cargo that isn’t to be damaged before waving to Sue. He delicately rips the envelope before snatching what’s inside and carelessly throwing the envelope in the back without a second thought. Right before he unfolds the paper he reaches into the back to find a tape to listen to while reading. He cranks Nirvana up all the way and bites his lip before reading.

_Did you miss me?_

_I missed you. The hours and days are long, I can’t help but think of you whenever I’m alone or in a mood. I don’t understand how someone can walk into your life and nearly everything before them you forget, because nothing’s as interesting nor as important anymore. Heard around that you’ve been naughty lately; taking whatever bashful, naive, giggling pretty girl that you can find from the bar home. Do you ever think of it being me beneath you while you fuck those girls? Or is it just when you’re by yourself? Can’t blame you there, but I don’t go sharing my bed with guys. None of them compare; you are the sun among ants. You’re what my heart never stops hammering about, what I toss and turn all night thinking about. And I can’t shake this feeling away. I’m endlessly, hellaciously, a hundred percent yours. Billy… you have me wrapped around your finger and you don’t even know how bad yet; but I’m not tired pretending._

Billy’s left blushing. Of course he thinks about her when he’s with other girls. Without any more sitting around, he gets down to it by whipping his belt off and getting to work through his boxers. It’ll have to be quick, but surely it’ll satisfy the urge that lingered all day, dying for this precious moment.

Sure, he’s in his car touching himself while reading a piece of paper like some nut job outside the post office in the dark, but he doesn’t give a fuck.  
Not five minutes later, the red faced boy sped up the shallow harsh strokes and splatters all over his hand and partly on his jeans. It’s embarassing how fast he always cums thinking about her while smelling that same perfume. He wipes his mess with some miscellaneous napkin tucked away and sighs dreamily. The afterglow is an experience he never forgets to enjoy basking in, the endorphins flooding from his head to his toes, never ending grin glued to his expression. After heaven slows a bit, he takes time to neatly fold the letter up and put it in his jacket pocket before starting up the vehicle.

By the time he reached Max, she’d been waiting outside. As the redhead enters she grumbles under her breath then clicks in her seatbelt doing her signature pout.

“How was practice today, squirt?”

“Shitty. What took so long?” she complains, crossing her arms stubbornly, dodging her brother’s attempt at lighting up the mood as an apology.

“Look, I just got caught up in stuff. Your mom still making you sing choir, huh?”

“Yeah. She thinks I’m gonna be the next Madonna or something. I don’t even like singing.”  
“Well speaking of that, take a look in the back.” Billy nods his head as his sister squints before realizing what he meant. She glanced to find a fat stack of records then gasps before undoing her seatbelt and climbing back to look closer.  
“Hey, watch it, alright!” he protests, not wanting his firecracker of a sister without a seatbelt on.

“Holy shi—“

“I know. Who loves ya?”

“These ones just came out,” she marvels, flipping through the collection and tucks her hair behind her ears as she reads what songs are on the back.  
“ _Gee, Billy. You’re the best big brother in the whole wide world. Thank you so much_ ,” Billy mocks, imitating her with a nasily high-pitch girl voice. Max rolled her eyes and punched her brother’s shoulder before seeing a ripped open piece of mail on the floor. Somewhat nosey, she picks it up and sees her brother’s name in a girl’s handwriting.

“What’s this?” she asks before the car pulls over with the driver in a panic, frantically reaching behind to snatch it out of the grabby twerp’s hands.

“Don’t touch it! That’s none of your business,” he argues, wrestling with her before the envelope gets torn in half due to the siblings playing tug of war. “Look what you did!” he shouts, livid at the girl holding her hands up in surrender with wide blue eyes.

“I didn’t do anything! Who cares that much about some empty envelope that fell anyways,” she bites back.

“I do, alright? Don’t go snoopin’ around shit that doesn’t belong to you ever again,” Billy warns, sending a death glare through the rear view mirror at Maxine.

“First off, it’s empty. Second off, I was just wondering. Sorry,” she apologizes with attitude, their argument having killed the excitement for all the albums still sitting in her lap. The rest of the drive back home was nothing but soul-sucking silence, Billy quiet with guilt not meshing well with his temper, Max not saying a word from her brother’s explosion and idiocracy. When he pulls up to his old home he refuses to unlock the door to let her leave and sits back as she struggles to open the door.

“What the hell! Let me out,” she shoves him, the teenager not budging.

“Would’ya let me explain—“

“No!”

“Goddamit, Maxine! Look, sorry I freaked out or whatever, but these are special to me and private. I don’t want a thirteen-year-old stickin’ her nose in them, okay?”  
“What kinda special private stuff?”

“It’s… it’s a girl that writes me. That answer satisfy you, brat?”

Max breaks her pout before shoving her brother’s shoulder more and grins with a daring laugh. “Dude, are you kidding? Who! You have to tell me.”  
Billy throws his head back in agony, unwilling to go into these topics in detail with his little sister.

“I wouldn’t tell you even if I knew.”

“So you don’t know who she is?”

Billy remains quiet, acting nonchalant as he gives her a slight nod and avoiding her eyes conpletely. “So what you’re saying is this girl that writes you lovey dovey letters and stuff is like obsessed with you, and…” she lowers her voice like it’s a dirty word or secret. “You’re in love with her?”

“Shut up! It’s not that… that simple, okay? And it’s not obsessing. Don’t be a prick and put it that way. She just gets me s’all. I don’t know who it is but I’ll find her sooner or later. No fucking telling your little friends or Dad especially,” he orders in the deepest authoritative voice he can pull off, letting her imagine the consequences if she disobeys him.

“Okay fine, I won’t tell. I haven’t told him about Lucas either,” she salutes him before asking if she can get out. Billy pauses, snapping his head in her direction and stopping her from moving another muscle.

“What the fuck did you say?”

“Nothing! Your belt’s been undone this entire conversation by the way,” she pulls a face before reaching over to unlock the door and hop out. Billy looks down at his crotch and finds that she wasn’t fucking with him for a distraction, his stupid pants really were undone. He moans incoherent complaints under his breath while lifting his hips to fix his pants. By the time he looks fucking decent again, he jumps when there’s a sharp knock on the window. When he catches his breath from the horror movie he thought he’d just starred in, he rolls the window down to find his devious little sister laughing at his reaction.

“What now, twat?”

“You should’ve seen the look on your face,” Max giggles, pointing a finger at him before getting slapped away by her angry older brother. “I was gonna say something about your secret admirer deal.”

“Max, get inside before you-know-who whoops my ass for—“

“Shut up, you’re in the clear. But the girl that’s writing you, you probably already know her, y’know? Hiding in plain sight. Girls are way better at acting, believe me,” she concluded, shrugging before offering her brother a first bump. Billy, disinclined, still puts on a happy face for her and does the stupid handshake. She waves goodbye until next time he has to pick her up from the misery that is singing lessons and makes sure she’s inside before taking off. Max’s words stuck with him, even as he mindlessly scrolls through all the boring plots and channels on television and falls asleep with the remote still in his hand like a mope. She had to be onto something about his Mystery Girl, though. Billy never thought to consider her as being rather shy. In fact, anything she wrote to him was anything but clean or polite.

_”You probably already know her, y’know? Hiding in plain sight.”_

As he sips on some cheap beer half awake, he thinks just maybe he could take a whack at solving the mystery on his own.

—

The coincidences lined up perfectly every week for the next four letters he’d received. There Y/N would be, hustling out from the post office to her yellow Beetle before Billy could say hi. There was no mistaking the perfume he spent night after night adoring whenever she passed by. Or the lipstick, the same hue that was smooched at the end of every paper. It blew Billy’s mind that for once he could be fucking onto something.  
After more visits to the record store and details about her schedule, she had to be it. Billy was bound to eat his heart out trying to approach her, but fuck if he wasn’t gonna try. It took dedication waiting outside his mailbox for two hours. When he was a hair away from getting too hungry and grumpy to wait any longer, here she comes. As if Y/N had seen a fucking ghost, her face scrunches in horror as she swiftly heads back to her car. She stumbles with her car keys like the time he visited her store and drops them by her feet. Billy can hear her desperate curses from a hundred feet away.

“Y/N, wait up!” the blonde jogs over with open arms, wanting her to know that it was okay and he wished he found out sooner. He needs her to fucking sit still and listen.

“I really need to go back to work okay? ‘M sorry Billy,” she tries laughing but it just sounds forced, so riddled with anxiety that it makes him wanna hold her to calm her down.

“I’ll follow you there, that okay?” he asks, touching her shoulders to soothe her like when they first bumped into eachother.

“Uh, I —“

“Hey, stop worrying. Deep breaths, okay? I just wanna talk a little,” he assures the poor trembling girl. He waits for a moment before she nods her head. “We don’t have to now. I can come by later, whenever you want,” Billy offers, not wanting to agitate Y/N further by making her fess up, that isn’t how this was supposed to go at all. She was gone in a flash, speeding down the highway from where Billy was left. He was all alone in the deserted parking lot of the post office, the same place he’d normally feel giddy upon arriving and even happier when leaving. This time though, he was empty handed and lost.

—

“Y/N, please just hear me out!” Billy begs, this close to getting on his knees to plead with her further as he pounds on the glass of the record store. His palms are sweaty, his heart is aching, and he just wants you to fucking acknowledge him. Y/N remains indifferent, not turning her back to even look his way as a set of heavy headphones lay over her ears, blocking out the sounds of his cries.

“Just let me in! I’m not mad, I swear!” he lets out an a frustrated sob, kicking the door in anger. Y/N turns her head his way at the commotion he’s stirring up. She points wordlessly to the sorry, we’re closed sign that hung on the door and asks him kindly to settle down. She changed her attitude since ditching him in the parking lot, now her mind set on pretending she doesn’t know him or care for anything he has to say. She’s in denial. “I don’t give a shit about this fuckin’ place being closed, I want you!” he shouts, knocking rambunctiously giving the girl no choice but to speak to him.

“Keep your voice down!” she threatens harshly from the other side. Billy’s gone mad trying to make her listen, so he sticks to plan B.

“You know what? Fine. I’ll piss off, ‘cause that’s what you’re tellin’ me you want. Okay?” he surrenders, taking out his own piece of paper and flattening it to make sure it’s thin enough to go through. Y/N watches curiously as he bends down to slide a piece of paper underneath the doorway and then storms off. The disoriented boy isn’t far still, now by his Camaro a few feet away from entrance lighting a cigarette. She hesitantly picks it up off the floor and wipes leftover dirt that gathered on it and eyes him outside before reading.

_Look, I’m not as pretty or poetic as you are, okay? But I can’t bare you ignoring me and leaving me. You made me look forward to every fucking Friday. Made me hate the broads I took home from strange places. My head was in the clouds just knowing that there was a real cool chick somewhere out there thinkin’ of me. You’re prettier than I ever coulda thought, I’m one lucky son of a bitch. I don’t know what I did that drew you to me, whatever it was I’m happy I did it. If I could go back… I’d do lots of stuff different. But I can’t, so I just have this half assed thing I’m trying to write but everything’s tearing down on me. But my eyes are open now, I got it figured out. Well, some of it… I guess I still don’t understand how someone can walk into your life and nearly everything before them you forget._

Billy knocked on the glass once again when she finished, far less embittered and wider puppy dog eyes pleading to let him in. Y/N shakes her head with a watery smile before unlocking the front door allowing the boy’s entrance. Without a second wasted not surrounding himself with her, he reaches to cautiously cup her chin and her jaw in his warm hands.

“It was you the whole time,” he muttered.

“Caught me,” she smiles, biting her red lips clutching the note Billy wrote while gently grasps his back.

“Sick of pretending now, huh? Knew that cherry smile anywhere,” the boy whispers, placing his thumb on the pillow of her lips before surging to replace it with his lips. He doesn’t hold any emotion back, deepening his kiss until all he feels is meshing of her tongue going wild with his, lipstick smothered all over their faces. “God, you smell so good.”

“Familiar, isn’t it,” she laughs at feeling his nose tickle her as he inhales more vanilla.

“Fuckin’ waiting for this, waiting for you so long. Now that I have you though, you’re all mine,” he possessively marvels, trailing kisses further south, not caring about the mess of the crimson lipstick passed down to your skin. “Kept ‘em all. All your letters are hung up on my wall or I take them with me everywhere I go, Y/N.”

“Wanna make out in your backseat to The Smashing Pumpkins?” she offers, grinning up at the kissed up fool that lazily smiles back at her in return before going in to nip more at her neck.

“Absolutely.”

Billy now knows why he didn’t care for chasing any excitement after graduating. Maybe he needed someone to seek him for a change, even if it were just through a love note sent every Friday on the same red paper, with the same black handwriting.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: valiidpunkman , you can request fics there if you’d like ! I also have a masterlist there that I’ll get to transferring here.


End file.
